Page 18 of Nothing Left

Juliette started the car, and Wyatt quickly fastened his seatbelt as she sped off, heading back down this long road and making for the highway.

Wyatt got on the phone and started calling.

"Whatever I organize, Sierra, will you send messages and emails confirming it?" he asked over his shoulder.

"I'm standing by," she said as he dialed.

Wyatt was relieved that Ebury was at the office and picked up his phone immediately.

Given the time difference between Europe and the US, anything that happened in the early morning in Europe always meant a late night or a small-hours conversation with their patient boss, who luckily didn't seem to need much sleep.

Wyatt loved his shuteye, but as an ex-soldier, he was used to going without, forcing his body to remain alert and wakeful for as long as the assignment took.

Now, though, it was evening here in Spain and midday in the US, and that meant Ebury would at least be able to operate during daylight hours.

"We got a situation," he said as soon as Ebury picked up. "Enzo Garcia, a witness who was at the victim's apartment last night, is on the run. We believe he's intending to flee the country and that he'll probably choose the airport as the faster route."

"Got you?" Ebury said calmly, but Wyatt knew that his boss's mind was now working just as fast as his own was.

"We're en route to the airport now, but we need you to notify passport control to flag his passport, and we also need you to get in touch with the railway police, who should be able to check the bookings at the international train station and look out for him there."

Ebury's voice was calm as he replied, but Wyatt could hear the urgency behind it.

"Okay, got it. I'll make the calls now and get back to you with any updates. Be as quick as you can, you three," he said.

"Sierra is going to email you all details on this man, as well as a recent photo to circulate at the station. He's about six foot, dark-haired, and twenty-three years old," Wyatt confirmed.

Wyatt hung up and turned to Juliette.

"Ebury's on it. We just have to get to the airport as fast as we can," he said.

Juliette nodded, her eyes focused on the road ahead.

Wyatt continued to strategize, trying to get ahead of Enzo's movements.

"Sierra, can you check if there are any international flights leaving within the next hour or two? If so, do they all depart from the same terminal building?"

"Checking now," Sierra replied. She paused. "Damn," she said.

"What?" Tension tightened Wyatt's stomach. Something was clearly causing a problem.

"Both terminals handle international flights as well as domestic flights. Terminal 1 is for the bigger airlines, and terminal 2 is for the low-cost carriers."

Wyatt thought fast.

"I'm going to guess, being a student and living where he does, that he'll look for low cost as the first option."

"Not necessarily," Juliette warned from the driver's seat. "A last-minute ticket might be expensive regardless. I think what he's going to look for, more than anything, is the quickest way out."

Wyatt glanced back at Sierra. With a difference of opinion, which he respected, they needed to work out a coherent strategy. He respected Juliette's input. It might be pure chance which terminal Enzo ended up in, and so he was willing to sideline his own theory in favor of stronger priorities, such as the soonest available international flights.

Wyatt was glad that he didn't have an ego in that regard. Being a good soldier had taught him that his own ideas were less important than acting with speed for the common good. He was glad Juliette also didn’t have an ego and was always ready to change tack if she needed to. Along with Sierra’s tech expertise, he thought these qualities made them a very strong team.

He remembered how Juliette had initially been confused and a little wary of his all-American attitude and his lack of European experience, but he'd worked his damned hardest to make up for those shortcomings.

Everything except trying seafood now felt easier than it had done. He was even making progress with learning basic French - not nearly as well as his wife, Suzy, who was a language natural. But he was determinedly battling along.

Just don't ask him to eat one of those orange things from off of the ocean floor, with lots of legs and whiskers and a shell! No way. He was a plain old hamburger man, through and through.

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